The Townsend Family Recipe for Disaster by Shauna Robinson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Shauna Robinson
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.1 MB
- Price: Free
Mae didn’t realize she was drunk until she nuzzled the peony.
Her future mother-in-law, Susan, paused mid-sentence to watch Mae
across the table. Tracing a petal down her cheek, luxuriating in how velvety
it was, Mae wondered if Susan had lost her train of thought, and Mae was
going to say You were talking about—except she couldn’t remember. It was
something to do with the centerpieces, a debate about roses versus peonies,
and then Mae had plucked a petal from the peony in front of her and
wondered how that surprising softness might feel on her face.
Were peonies
good for the skin? If jade rollers were a thing, there had to be a market for
face-flowers. What would she call it? Flower facial? Petal peel?
Floratherapy? The name needed workshopping, but she was onto
something.
But now, staring into Susan’s baffled blue eyes, it occurred to Mae that
perhaps that look had nothing to do with centerpieces and everything to do
with Mae. Mae glanced at Connor, her fiancé. He was watching her, too,
except the corner of his lips twitched in the hint of a smile.
In an instant, Mae noticed the warmth in her face, the floating in her
head, the flower on her cheek, and realized she might have hit the cabernets
too hard. They’d all tasted about a dozen wines that afternoon and yet Mae
was the only one fondling flowers. Then again, Connor’s parents owned a
winery, and she guessed wine-tasting expertise ran in their blood. Even
Connor had probably swirled and sniffed from a baby bottle before he’d
taken his first steps.
Mae, on the other hand, had made it to thirty-one
without grasping the basics of wine appreciation. While they went on about
hidden flavors and aromas she never picked up on—apricot, mushroom,
tobacco, wet gravel, as if anyone in their right mind would want to drink
something with notes of wet gravel—she’d guzzled every glass, just trying
to get the acidic taste over with.
If only today had been a pizza tasting. She was great at appreciating
pizza.
Mae lowered her hand to her lap and studied the petal, now patchy with
grease. Susan resumed speaking, gushing about the timelessness of peonies,
and Mae let the petal flutter to her feet. Her mind was still drifting past the
cloud of conversation, but that was how all wedding planning discussions
felt. For the last year, talk of table settings and color schemes had swirled
around her in words she couldn’t quite grasp. Who cared about irrelevant
details when her wedding might be the catalyst that finally brought her
estranged family together?
“But you don’t need to worry about the cost,” Susan was saying, her
voice faraway.
“I know,” Connor said. “But if Mae and I don’t care about the flowers,
then what’s the point of splurging?”
John, Connor’s father, laughed like it was the silliest question he’d ever
heard. “Because we can.”
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